


universal child

by TrekFaerie



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (2014)
Genre: Gen, Male-Female Friendship, Non-Sexual Age Play
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-23
Updated: 2014-08-23
Packaged: 2018-02-14 08:29:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2184855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrekFaerie/pseuds/TrekFaerie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They'd grown up far too fast, the both of them. But you can make up lost time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am trash.
> 
> I don't even like ageplay. Really, I don't, like at all. But, this wanted to be written, and so it is.
> 
> I feel like I may add more chapters, but I'm not sure yet, so that's why I have it like this for now.

“I mean, you could even call me Daddy, if you want.”

-

It had all started with a doll.

They had been delivering their latest bounty (alive, not dead, though the request had been purposefully vague and Rocket had really had his heart set on the latter) to a group’s headquarters in the middle of a large market satellite. They had been just about the enter the building when Quill noticed that Gamora wasn’t there. He’d sent the others ahead to collect the bounty and went off through the market to find her.

He found her only a short distance away, staring at a table in the market. He looked around her and saw the doll for the first time. Her hand was outstretched towards it, fingers barely ghosting over the doll’s shiny black hair.

“Getting into doll collecting now, Gamora?” he asked with a grin. "I didn't take you for the type."

“This is Zen-Whoberi,” she said. “I haven’t seen anything from my home in years… I had one like this, when I was young. Before Thanos.”

Quill looked at the doll. It was certainly pretty, in his inexpert opinion: made of some kind of green porcelain, dressed in a complicated getup he assumed was (or had been, really) part of some Zen-Whoberi tradition. It looked a little like Gamora, actually. Except it was smiling.

“Do you want it?”

She seemed surprised that he’d asked. “Why?” she said with a slight scoff. “What use would I have for a child’s toy?”

“Don’t think of it as just a toy. Think of it as a reminder of your home world, of where you came from.” He gave her a little half-smile. “I’d be kind of a hypocrite if I didn’t recommend it.”

So, they haggled with the shopkeeper, and then got into a violent altercation with the shopkeeper, and then everyone ran onto the ship, an angry mob biting at their heels as they shot out into space. Rocket had groused about being labeled _persona non grata_ in yet another port over something as stupid as a toy, but Quinn just ignored him.

After all, he’d noticed that while she was flying the ship, Gamora had the doll strapped and seated in her lap.

 

“How old were you when Thanos took you?”

Gamora had become slightly subtler with her caring for the doll (which was named Angela, he knew, because he was definitely not listening in on her when she talked to it) ever since Drax had noticed her holding it and started mocking her. She’d nearly twisted his arm off for it, but the deed had been done, and Rocket had joined in on the teasing. So, she kept it in her room, sitting primly on her pillow. He didn’t know what she did with it, whether she slept with it or not, though he did know that there were some suspiciously short hairs in Gamora’s hairbrush.

They were sitting in her room, listening to cassette tapes and going over the Most Wanted lists of various planets (of which they were on eight), when he asked the question. She frowned at him, and for a moment he worried he was going too fast, but she simply adjusted Angela on her lap and went back to an expression of schooled neutrality.

“Old enough to remember,” she said. “That’s a very personal question.”

“I think we’re good enough friends to ask personal questions. You’ve heard plenty of stories about my mom,” he said, “but you never told me what your mother was like.”

“Loving. Kind. Gentle. So was my father. They didn’t even fight back, when Thanos came.” She blinked hard and went back to her screen. “Five. I was five years old.”

“You had to grow up fast,” he said. “Even faster than I did.”

“It’s not fair to compare our situations, Quill. We both went through a lot; it’s not a competition.”

“I know that. I’m just saying… You never really got a chance to be a kid.”

She shrugged, but there was an odd expression on her face. “I suppose you could say that.”

“Well, that’s why I’m saying it. I mean, I didn’t get much of a chance either. It was always hard, and then when Mom got sick…” He trailed off, then glanced at her. “I make up for it now, though, you know? With music, just goofing around… Acting like a kid sometimes kind of takes some of the bite out of never getting to be one. But you, you’re always The Most Dangerous Woman in the Galaxy, always super serious—“

“Peter,” she said stiffly. “You’re attempting to make some kind of a point. I’d appreciate it if you would just come out and say it, instead of insulting my intelligence by speaking in circles.”

“Have you ever considered… acting like a kid?”

Her expression was inscrutable. He went on.

“I don’t mean just goofing around like I do—I don’t think you’re actually physically capable of that—but just sort of… getting yourself into that kind of mindset, you know? Am I making any sense here?”

“Peter Quill,” she said, a completely horrifying twinge of fury just under her voice, “if you’re attempting to bring me into some kind of horrible perversion—“

“Gamora, please, don’t make this weird! It doesn’t have to be weird!” It was totally weird, and though he was beginning to regret everything about his choices in life, something about her grip on the doll made him carry on. “It’s not about perversion at all! Think of it kind of like, I don’t know… therapy?”

“Therapy,” she said flatly.

“Age regression is a huge therapeutic... thing, back on Earth.”

“That explains more about your people than I ever cared to know.” She inhaled sharply, looking out the window into space instead of looking at him. “… I’m not even sure I want to know what this… therapy involves.”

“Well, it could be anything, I guess. Anything little girls do all across the universe. Color, play games, dollies…” He cracked a grin. “I mean, you could even call me Daddy, if you want.”

Really, he’d been expecting her hands around his throat at some point in the evening, but it still surprised him.

“Let’s get one thing straight,” she said through clenched teeth. “You are not my father. Thanos is not my father. No one is my father, because my father is _dead_. Understand?”

“Joke! Just a joke, just a joke!” He choked. “Mercy!”

She released him and he fell to the floor, rubbing the feeling back into his neck. “… Nothing leaves this room,” she said, still not looking at him. “If it does, I will kill you.”

“Deal.”

After that, they just went back to planning, as if nothing had happened. He supposed that was just the kind of relationship they had.

To think, though. That it had all started with just a doll.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gamora still isn't sure what to make of this "acting like a child" business, so Peter tries to tempt her in the traditional way: with candy.

Quill was a few days into his brilliant therapy when he realized something very important: Gamora had _no_ idea how children acted.

She knew basic things—that they liked toys, and games—and there were times when she would come out with a streak of a childish mindset, but it was more of a superficial understanding than anything. Gamora hadn’t just never been a child; she’d never even really gotten a chance to _know_ any children, either. It was an entirely (pardon his language) alien concept to her.

So, at the next port, he went off looking for a vendor who sold Terran merch. And then he stole said merch. All for a good cause.

“Why is this one made of mud?” she asked, absently flipping a small boy-shaped piece of plastic between her fingers, pointing at the game board with her other hand.

“It’s not mud, it’s molasses,” he said with a sigh. “His name is Gloppy, and he lives in the Molasses Swamp. It’s literally right there on the board.”

“It looks like mud.”

“Why would there be a mud person in a game about candy?”

“I’m not overly familiar with Terran traditions.” Her finger traced over the board until it reached the other side. “She’s quite cute. What is she?”

“Princess Lolly. She’s made of lollipops.”

“It seems all very self-explanatory.”

“It’s for little kids, Gamora. It’s not going to be some epic tale. It’s about kids making their way through a land made of candy. It’s a fantasy. Speaking of which,” he said, reaching down to his knapsack on the floor, “I got you a present.”

“You keep showering me with gifts,” she said wryly—anyone who said Gamora didn’t have a sense of humor didn’t really know her, he thought. “The others will start to get suspicious.”

“Hey, none of this leaves this room, remember?” He took out a plastic bag of colorful swirling lollipops and dropped it on the game board. “I told Rocket I had blood sugar issues, when he saw it. He seemed to buy it.”

Silence. “Well, go on,” he said. “Try one.”

She shook her head vigorously—one of her childish habits. “I don’t like sweet things,” she said.

“Please, I bet you’ve never even eaten a sweet thing.”

“You could hardly be sure about that.”

“I barely even see you eat, most days! And every time you do eat, it’s always gross healthy stuff.”

“It’s not _gross_ —“

“”Will you—“ He stopped and sighed, then smiled at her sheepishly. “Listen, even if it’s an acquired taste, I’d really like it if you’d try one. I bought them all for you. Besides, this is all about trying all the things you missed, right? Candy is a big part of that.”

Though she rolled her eyes, he could tell there was just a hint of a smile on her face. Not saying another word, she took the bag and easily ripped it open. She took two lollipops out and held one out to him.

“I’ll do it if you join me,” she said.

“Like I’m gonna say no to that.” He took the lollipop and tapped it against her own. “Cheers.”

The flavors burst on his tongue. In all actuality, he hadn’t had really good candy in a long while—and this was really good candy. He couldn’t recognize the flavor—some alien fruit, probably—but it was delicious, and that was all he needed to know.

“So?” he asked, leaning forward.

She took the lollipop out of her mouth, shiny with saliva, and seemed to consider it. Then, she popped it back in. “It’s good,” she said. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

Then, lollipop stick sticking out of the side of her mouth, she went back to peering at the game board. “So,” she said, “moving on. Tell me about this dapper gentleman here.”

“Oh, _licorice_. Y’know, there’s been a debate about this stuff back on Earth dating back, I don’t know, centuries, probably. It’s a _highly_ divisive issue…”


End file.
